Black Cat
by thewolfwhisperer
Summary: Lara Davies is a normal girl who can take care of herself. Perfectly. In Victorian society, however, that can be looked down upon. Does she care? No. Much fluff that can be slightly hot at times, so watch out!
1. I Wish I Knew How To Crossdress To Hide

Hey everyone! This is a 'Young Sherlock Holmes' fanfic that was inspired by SherlockedSherlockian's awesome OC fanfic. This is my first fanfiction, so go easy on me, would ya? This is a chapter story, so stay tuned! I wanted to get this story off my chest and even though it won't be as good as Sherlockian's, I hope you enjoy it! Lotso fluff, though.Tell me what you think or give me ideas via PM or a review. I'll always be happy to listen!

Also, disclaimer: I do not own the Young Sherlock Holmes series or the three characters Matty, Sherlock and Virginia. Just my main and filler OCs.

Thanks,

The Wolf Whisperer

\--

"**You're _w__hat__???_**"

Matty blinked slowly, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"You're seeing _Virginia_??" He shook his head while looking down, and Sherlock heard the edge in his laugh that was currently reduced to a chuckle- the tone of disbelieving mirth.

It wasn't as if he _couldn't_ \- it was that he _didn't_ believe.

Sherlock held up both Virginia's and his hands, the pale fingers of his threaded through her slightly tanned hand. _Why not?_ he wondered.

"What more proof do you need?"

Virginia's fingers clasped his tighter as she glowed with a muted pride.

At that moment, Matty's whole demeanour changed. Sherlock noticed every detail of his new posture: Matty's arms were dangling by his sides from his previously folded arms, his shoulders were slightly pulled back and his head was slightly tilted forward and to the right. Matty's face had gone somewhat slack, his eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth was slightly open and his eyes were filled with exasperation.

If Matty didn't sound sceptical enough before, he now looked the picture of incredulousness.

"I...what...you...huh?" His head seemed to be struggling with the concept, and his heart told him that asking Sherlock if he was seeing Virginia again wasn't gonna yield anymore fresh information. Realizing how rude he must've sounded- and _looked_ now, he straightened himself and said rather stiffly in a manner that didn't suit him, " Congratulations...I guess. But-" and he glanced at Virginia, who's had nothing to say in this story just yet. "Virginia, could I talk to Sherlock for a moment? It'll take just a second."

Something about the almost pained countenance that Matty chose made Sherlock's heart quiver once in fear, because he could tell what he was wanting to discuss and he was admittedly not looking forward to it.

Virginia pursed her lips and her violet eyes surveyed Matty with an icy stare. "Very well," she said. "But make it quick, we're going riding later and I want to get a move on."

As Sherlock trudged a bit away from Virginia, he glanced back reassuringly and Virginia smiled at him.

Maybe he really could drown in those eyes...

"I think you can be away from your sweetheart for just a little bit, eh?

Sherlock's eyes fluttered in surprise as he snapped back to Earth and stared at the back of Matty's head, face flushed.

Matty stopped and turned sharply to face Sherlock when they were out of Virginia's hearing range. The questions he threw at him rushed out in a turbulent stream of mixed curses and words. "Since when was this a thing?

"We were riding-"

"How did you...did she-"

"Matty! Let me finish. We were riding our horses about two weeks ago, and we went to the creek. She dismounted, and I followed in confusion. And then she set those beautiful violet eyes of hers right on me and her hair swished in the wind, like kelp in the water as she took exactly three and a half steps towards me-"

"Sherlock. Miss out the details. You sound like a crap author."

"R-right," he faltered, "then she asked me to be her sweetheart."

Matty raised an eyebrow.

"Matty, you know I've liked her for over a year-"

"Wait, you told me this a few days ago, didn't you?" Matty blinked in remembrance. Sherlock cut through his train of thought and said rather sheepishly, actually, he reacted better _then_ than now.

"I was grooming Albert. There was no way I was consciously agreeing with that."

"You said 'Oh, that's nice.' and you looked at me."

"_I_ _wasn't listening then_-" Matty waved his hands wildly in frustration, then dropped his hands in defeat. "Forget it."

_This usually isn't like him_, Matty thought. _He used to be rather cold to everyone, but now he's being all soppy? Staring back at her? "Kelp in the water"?? And did I hear the idiot mumble he could drown in her eyes?? He's supposed to be a detective and he couldn't see I wasn't listening then?__? What the absolute heck? _

_Maybe I'm just overreacting,_ Matty thought to himself. _Breathe, Matty. Sherlock's not going anywhere._

_But if he does that stupid describing thing again, he 's definitely going out of my life._

Matty squinted and pinched the bridge of his nose. "...ugh, just, are you sure 'bout this?" Sherlock knew what Matty was trying to get at, but he was trying to avoid it. "Yes, Matty, I'm absolutely sure. Stop making it such a big deal."

"But," Matty started, his voice quiet, "but what about Lara?" He looked at Sherlock, and their expressions- expressions of worry and concern- were aligned.

"Oh bollocks," Sherlock said softly.

Lara Davies, the third child of four and second daughter of Aurelio Davies, was their other female friend, a rather wild, stormy, romantic young woman with hip length wild black hair, blacker than Sherlock's, surpassing his in both length and colour to the point of it glowing a deep vibrant blue in just the right angle of sunlight. Of course, following Victorian customs, her hair was always pinned up, so nobody other than her maid and best friend, Julia, as well as her mother, father and her sweetheart, Thomas Fernsby, had seen her hair completely down.

Her eyes were _definitely_ something to talk about. Sherlock imagined that her eyes looked like a rainforest, lush and every shade of green housed in two irises. Gold flecks were sprinkled here and there like jaguars, prowling in the wild. Her gaze was as intense and poised as the metaphorical jaguars, and Sherlock always noticed that whenever he was the target of her gaze, he would always make eye contact and it became an unspoken staring contest- that she would always lose. She always broke eye contact first.

There was an unspoken agreement that she was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Farnham- but when it was mentioned, she would hear none of it. She'd deny it and compliment the person who complimented her. Most people loved her and believed her to be an angel, some believing she was somehow the reason to their anger, but everyone also kind of feared her. She had a sort of invisible strength about her that very few and I mean _very_, like _four or five_ people in the whole of Farnham (not even her family and friends, though they have always suspected it), have seen her use, and her eyes and dark hair made her look mysterious and rather intimidating. A bit dangerous, too.

Which explains Sherlock's fear, because she could (probably) knock your teeth out or leave you without a scratch and with a congratulations. Does anyone know when she was going to do either? Both? Not me.

Matty said, "What if she doesn't agree? This is pretty sudden for her." Then he threw an accusing glance at Sherlock. "Pretty sudden for me." He enunciated every syllable, and Sherlock shifted from foot to foot guiltily.

Matty mused, "Hopefully, she doesn't murder you because you left her in the dark. Who's going to solve _that_ murder if _you're dead?_" Sherlock shook his head and chuckled at that.

Matty turned to him.

"We're visiting Lara today. We have to tell her and get it over with."

"What??"

"After your little riding spree."

"But, Matty-"

"To. Day. No buts."

"Fine."

"Come on! One more minute!" Virginia called impatiently.

They turned and made their way back to Virginia.

"Matty, you think I've changed drastically since this relationship, don't you?" Sherlock said suddenly. "But I can still tell that you were in the woods exactly an hour ago looking for me and I'm guessing your horse probably isn't well. Also, you fell over exactly three times on your way over." Matty opened his mouth as if to say something, but he realized he was mostly right.

"Just because I sometimes likes to give him his grub..." Matty grumbled. He shot a glance at Virginia, as if to say, "He never damn listens."

Sherlock grinned. "'...there's no need to make a song and dance about it.' Sorry." His eyes widened in recollection for a second before he turned to Virginia. "Oh, yeah, Virginia, wanna go to Lara's house after riding?"

"Yeah, sure," Virginia nodded. "It'd be nice to see her again."

Matty shot Sherlock a subtle _what-the-hell-you're -digging-her-grave-for-her_ look. Sherlock threw a _no__-i'm-not-stop-worrying-and-shut-up_ look back at him, then glanced down quickly as if to say _hopefully._

They started on their way to the woods, and Matty had a question about Sherlock's deduction. "How are you sure _three_ times?" he asked, tilting his head, trying his best to not show that Sherlock was actually right about that.

"Well, your knee is scuffed more recently than the new scratch on your wrist and I still see particles of dirt around the cut-" -here Matty consciously rubbed the wound on his trouser leg- "- and on the other elbow, it's wet from where your elbow probably sunk in a puddle after the wrist scratch fall."

"Yeah, you're actually ri-"

"Also," Sherlock ruffled the back of his head sheepishly, "I saw you fall three times in the distance."

\--

Yo.

So we've introduced Lara Davies who is in a relationship, and Sherlock is also in a relationship already. I'm not sure if they used the words girlfriend/ boyfriend back then, so I just stuck to "sweetheart". Lara is probably a bit cliché, isn't she? But the next chapter will be about Lara, from her point of view as she actually interacts with the Trio, and you'll get more of her character background, which I hope isn't really cliche.

Also, I could only find _Black Ice_ and _Fire Storm_ to read, so pardon me if my Sherlock story lacks some details that other people know (because I don't even know the details lol)

I'll update this story every week if I can, but with school and stuff let's see how it goes.

Oh, and all the chapter titles are going to be from Matty's point of view, for fun.

Stay tuned!

The Wolf Whisperer


	2. Introducing Lara Davies

Everyone thinks I'm perfect and I have an easy life.

"Crikey!" I yelped as I narrowly missed being trampled under a horse.

This is my bloody life. Being 5' 1" means drivers barely notice you, and you risk being chutney on the road everytime you go out.

I tucked back a loose strand of hair teased out by the windy morning and set home, contented at the prospect of sitting on the armchair, near the fire with my favourite snack and a pillow, a book- or even Thomas, maybe and talk lazily about all kinds of things with him until he had to go.

I'm literally just like most girls my age, except that everyone seems to keep thinking I'm not.

I announced myself at home by accident as the door slammed itself close by the wind. My mother came out of the dining room and said, "Oh, Lara! Come in for breakfast, love." She smiled. I glanced at the clock as I set down my hat on the stand. It said half past 10, so I went in for some toast and butter.

I also adore food. A lot. Seeing as how a lot of Victorian men want a woman with a dainty appetite, yeah, that's...that's not happening with me. I require 6 slices of toast to keep me going through the day. I can eat freely, because I don't wear corsets regularly. My mother never forced me to wear one all the time.

My parents are possibly the best around in Farnham- Mr and Mrs Holmes coming a very close second- and they are _ahead_ of their time. My father took one look at my two sisters, Delia and Rena, and me as well as my mother, and decided that we needed the education that not many Victorian girls recieved.

He sent us to school, but he also helped us learn more faster and complicated mathematics -that Rena caught on quickly- and he taught us about the sciences and what he knew -Delia, obviously. He also taught me that my strength (honed from years of dancing and duelling my brother as well as all the taunting he did about my height) was my best weapon. He taught me basic melee and moved it up as we went. I remember the first time he set me against a guard, and the guard took me lightly.

I can't blame him, but regardless, I sucker-punched him in the gut by accident.

He fell down and curled up, muttering wildly about his pain as he was carried away. I wanted to apologize and tend to him as a peace offering, but he was so scared of me that he denied anything I offered him _before_ I had offered him anything. He later accepted my apology when I snatched the soup spoon out of his hands and fed him as gently as possible while apologizing.

I also learnt that my mother had the sharpest aim with a pistol. Sure, some of them came out a bit shaky, but _BAM! BAM! BAM!_ Three bullseyes in a row. My father made her aim and throw with a lot of things: knives; knives with ropes or weights tied onto them to observe how she dealt with impediments; darts; darts with ropes tied onto them; vases; vases with ropes tied to them; twigs; twigs with ropes tied onto them, you can see the pattern.

Something tells me I should stay out of my mother's way next time...

As I slathered some butter on the crispy toast, already lured in by the smell of it, I heard a sound that would be possibly even more dear to me than food and comfort. The doorknocker rapped out a specific rhythm, and I skipped over to the door, a smile already on my face. I opened the door, and I cocked my head at Thomas, who cocked his back in return.

His dark eyes studied me, before he ran a hand through his blond hair swiftly, smiling softly, and I swear the butterflies in my stomach were conducting an orchestra. The feeling rose in a slow crescendo as he placed that hand on my waist and pulled me closer. The crescendo became a forte when he gazed into my eyes and brought his face close to mine.

"How's my black cat doing?" he murmured, and I was frozen, unable to shake off the adrenaline to retort. He then pressed his lips to mine, and I was breathless when he pulled back. I pushed him with wide eyes, once I had gotten out of my daze. "Do you always have to do that?" I asked him.

He stared at me confused, but i knew he was bluffing. I started, cheeks burning, "You... you always do those cute things that make me freeze up and unable to say anything, and when you kiss me I feel like there's an orchestra of butterflies in my stomach, when you give me names like that and stare into my eyes I- Tom?" I snapped out of my rambling to see him gaze at the floor on my left with his eyes wide and a hand loosely over his mouth in embarrassment.

"Lara," he said, "you certainly have a way with words. If you do feel like that," and I truly thought he was going to apologise by the look he had now on his face, but seeing as this is Thomas; playful, cheeky but understanding Thomas, he continued with a smirk that appeared on his lips, "I'll just have to make the most of it, won't I?"

"Oh dear Lord, you aren't even inside yet and you're already romancing my daughter, boy! Have a slice, here." As my father thrust a piece of toast in Thomas's hand, I glared at him, annoyed. "Dad!" I yelled, and they both laughed. I crossed my arms and stood, exasperated, just as my mother walked in and asked, "What's all the fuss here?" I shook my head and asked her, "Do you need something?"

Her face lit up, and I felt Thomas rest his chin on the top of my head with ease and slip his hands around my waist comfortably. He was obviously taller than me, but so was everyone else, pretty much, so we all used it to our different advantages. She said, "Well, I have to find Delia and Rena first. They need to know this too!" She went back up the main stairs, to find them.

My father went back to his study and Thomas and I were left alone. I whipped around to face him, grabbed his collar and yanked him so close to my face that our lips were almost touching once again.

One of _m__y_ advantages with my height was that I get to do these kind of things.

I saw his dark brown eyes wide open in surprise, and I hissed, "What I was saying is that, it's not fair that you have this effect on me, and I'd like to turn the tables every once in a while. Okay, love?"

I kissed him gently, slowly and I was secretly pleased to know that he was in the same situation I was- that adrenaline rush that immobilized him the same way it did to me had taken effect, and it held him fast until I had let go of him triumphantly and took in his shocked face for a second. There was a second where I wanted to hug him, but I smirked, turned and walked back to my room.

The shiver of excitement made its way up and down my spine over and over again as I thought about how different that kiss felt. I was almost halfway up the second flight of stairs, when my mother and sisters came bounding down them, dragging me along on the way. I caught a glimpse of Thomas, and I was almost overcome with a wave of shocked laughter. He was _blushing_, which usually turns out to be my job after he leaves me in a flustered mess, but he grinned devilishly and straightened his collar when he saw me and it went back to me being the mess.

Damn him.

My mother asked for the thing to be brought in- a parcel, that came up to about my knees and was about a metre wide. My father emerged from his study. We all stared at it with interest and Thomas regained his position of his arms hugging my waist and his head resting on top of mine. I blushed fiercely, because I knew this was just the first step for his revenge, but also because his arms were a _bit_ higher up than usual.

My mother was being dramatic about the parcel. "What's in this mysterious parcel? We shall see... in a few moments..." She untied the thick twine and the paper was removed deftly with her light fingers.

"It's from Mother!" she exclaimed. She pulled out a letter and read it aloud.

"_Dear Valerie,_

_My child, how are you? It is lovely here up in the Alps. I am quite enjoying myself. How are things down in Farnham? Delia, Lara and Rena, such lovely children-_" (here Thomas took the liberty of whispering in my ear, "More than lovely, this one," which made my face redden immediately) "_-the three of them._

_I hope you all like the gifts I sent you. Switzerland is a haven for chocolate. Their cows are dear things, you see, yields rich, decadent milk. With this milk do they make such renowned chocolate. I sent you some-_" My mother paused and pulled out a box of chocolates and I gasped despite myself, ignoring Thomas's admiring chuckle. She continued, "_-and I hope you enjoy them. I have boxes of chocolates for all of you-_" another gasp and a chuckle- "_-and a gift for each__._"

I nudged Thomas in the ribs and said, "You can wait in the living room or my bedroom, this might be boring."

But he just inched his arms a bit higher up and pressed himself closer to me.

Fine. Have it your way.

* * *

Yello!

I dragged this along a bit...sorry, I hope you don't mind! We've gone a bit more into Lara's family. The point of them being nonchalant about Thomas being so close to Lara is to show that they are rather different, from the rest of the society. Next up is Sherlock, Virginia and Matty meeting up at Lara's house...

The title of this chapter was different, obviously because Matty isn't in it, but that's gonna change next episode!

I'll try not to be as slow to put up the next chapter!

The Wolf Whisperer


End file.
